Mea Culpa
by Night Strider
Summary: Ban is dead sure he doesn't know why everyone likes Kazuki. But that's until Kazuki starts to drive him mad, obliviously. On going. KazukiXBan. COMPLETE
1. Chapter 1

Mea Culpa

Summary: Ban is dead sure he doesn't know why everyone likes Kazuki. But that's until Kazuki starts to drive him mad, obliviously. On-going. KazukiXBan.

Disclaimer: I don't own Get Backers. I only hope I own Shido's heart.

One line is borrowed from F. Madox Ford.

A/N: before we kick things off, allow me to say that the names' spellings may or may not coincide with yours. I'm not sure why, but my downloads seem to have made a point of messing with the spellings in each episode; sometimes Kazuki is Katsuki, Mido is Midou, Jubei is Juubei et cetera, et cetera. I don't really know which among these are official which is why I'm going to use the easiest ones. Hence. In any case, I hope my misspellings and whatnot don't confuse you.

And oh, before positive preconceptions take the better of you, this fic's plot is just nonexistent. I think I have to explain that my creativity is, say, sub-par and that I'm just writing because my major occasionally requires me to rehearse my wordplay. So take this as a semblance of warning. As always, I'm being my normal self; not having the remotest notion what a plot is.

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Chapter I

He swings inside Honky Tonk with no other special intention than to say hi to his old friend Ginji and perhaps, to help himself with a warm cup of coffee to jumpstart an any-weather day. He has generated the habit of doing this, sometimes just varying in time in a matter of minutes, sometimes alternating the days and even getting delayed too long; at any rate, he comes and the Honky Tonk people can count on seeing his smile sooner or later.

'Good morning,' He will say and flash his signature feminine smile, the smile that doesn't scream much of anything beyond wishing everyone a good day but is nevertheless loved by all and sundry. He will have a nice exchange or two with Ginji, say his goodbye later and glide off the scene, taking with him a certain radiant air that he has always wrapped around himself like an invisible sweet odor. Little does he know that every time he cuts himself away from the place, more sighs are drawn than ever before. Those disappointed exhalations appear to have become a protocol within the four corners of Honky Tonk; it would be quite a surprise if no 'I wish you'd stay a little longer' was said to him. They have begun to take pleasure in his sight, in his breathtaking beauty that seems to reduce the dampness inside the otherwise gleeful café; and yes, it will be such a good idea to have him around for an hour more. But 'an hour more' seems so short a period it never really suffices anyone's wish. It passes by indefinitely and unmarked as always and before anyone acknowledges it, it's time for Kazuki Fuchoin to say goodbye. No one knows for certain whether or not it's his intention to leave the place more elevated than when he found it. As far as everyone's concerned, he will walk out the door seemingly clueless of the fact that he's leaving admiring stares behind.

'He's gone, I can breathe comfortably now.' Mido Ban mutters on a sunny morning. He's plopped himself on the usual spot he and Ginji occupy and is currently assuming that typical flippant expression that borders on sleepiness and ignored hunger. He hasn't bitten anything in 8 hours but looks quite alright; anyway the difference between not eating in 8 hours and 3 days doesn't show in him. He is so good at containing himself like that nobody even bothers to find out how miserably starved his intestines are. 'Thank god.'

No sooner than it gets said than the group's attention whirls into focus. All eyes are now fixed on Ban as he rolls his pupils behind his honest-to-God purple sunshades. Needless to say, their enormous disbelief has just been cinched by that godawful 'thank god.' Their slackened-jaw amusement already pretty much speaks for it, let alone the large-eyes silence.

'Ano…Ban-san, that isn't a nice thing to say. We always enjoy having him around.' Natsumi pipes up in her naïve school girl voice. She's always taking meticulous care not to run in disagreement with someone, which easily complements the fact of her sheltered existence; at least until she got tangled up in a pleasant mess with Ginji and Ban. She is in the process of wiping a table clean when she gets stilled by Ban's bold but calm words. This rarely happens as she always does her chores quite efficiently; apparently, only outlandish things like Ban's 'thank god' will make her stop in her tracks.

'Whatever. He's a bugger.' Ban replies in a matter-of-fact tone, which all the more extracts surprised glances from the company. It's as if he just uttered a taboo that requires the severest corporal punishment. How he hates to be at the receiving end of this kind of look and yet, it doesn't even occur to him to conjure up second thoughts. True, up to this point he refuses to play-act encomiast to Kazuki Fuchoin; he just can't, never can, make his frame of mind follow the same pathway which leads to admiring Kazuki with watery eyes and all that.

'Ban-chan, I didn't know you dislike Kazuki.' Ginji says with a sorry-assed smile while nursing his currently hollow stomach with caresses. He, too, is tied around the thought that the likelihood of anyone NOT liking Kazuki is calculated between any negative digit and zero. Hearing Ban say those words though doesn't amount to much disturbance in him. He may not have liked what his best friend just said but that doesn't do anything to minus his still-your-number-one-fan/hero-worship affection for Ban. Plus, he knows better than to contend when the other's equipped with a flimsy temper.

'Dislike is a strong word.' Ban begins to feel pissed off huge time. It's a pity these people can't pretend to own intelligence to save their lives; perhaps he needs to lend some to them. 'I'd rather take 'unimpressed'.'

Once again, this philosophical-sounding line from Mido Ban perks up the group's collective ears and cause them to swap curious stares. To say that they're interested in hearing Ban's say is an understatement. Hell, they're all noses and ears to it now. More than anything at that moment, they want to get behind Ban's abrupt and seemingly unreasonable disposition towards Kazuki. Surely, he can't dismiss the subject just like that? If he can help it, why not make his vague words mean something that'll cater to the Ginji type, i.e. underfed, brains?

'Why—'

'Shouldn't we be hunting for a client, Ginji?' Ban cuts him short with an annoyed jut.

'But Ban-chan, isn't today rest day?'

It transpires to Ban that today is the first day of their ever so awaited 2-day day-off. Beyond this and tomorrow is another endless period of money-chasing and wacky odd jobs that cause them greater exhaustion than they ever have bargained for. It's only right to savor this day. Damn too right. Indeed. Much as Ban hates to admit it, Ginji overtakes him on this point. Ginji, he emphasizes, that thick-as-two-short-planks stereotypical blonde with nothing but toddler logic wheeling inside his tiny skull. Yeah, that's him. Finally, the former Thunder Emperor comes up with something that will later be seen as a proof of outsmarting the eternally reliable, untiringly clever Mido Ban. Hurrah! It's one notch up on his IQ count!

Sometimes Ban shocks himself for negating things that he's been looking forward to; this for instance. It has been on his mind, engraved therein, for a whole week that to forget it will be defining clear-cut impossible. Unless he contracted permanent aphasia, he can't be excused on any ground.

So rest day it is, he got it. Got it diamond clear as a matter of fact.

Ban isn't sure what it is that cancelled his train of thought in such a short notice. A couple of days back, he and Ginji were happily squabbling about said 2-day day-off and it did look as though they were never going to stop jumping up and down in their exclusive delight. They were both spring-loaded on taking a stride along the shores, sight-seeing, you know the kind. And suddenly here comes amnesia saying hello to him. He really can't tell why his consciousness would jump from full tank to empty. No, it's not like he hasn't forgotten things in large quantities in the past; he has. But not so exacting as this, because the non-issue of rest day is actually just an independent part of his profession and assuredly isn't something that will in any way amount to permutated domino effect. Simply put, it's just a day his career can easily do without.

Ban can only suspect that he and Ginji, the never-die Get backers, are just so short of cash and so long of bills as of the present that getting a task comes so naturally. Considering their unspeakable condition, being unimaginably broke, shouldn't they be doing double overtime? Or will he be breaking poor Amano Ginji's heart if he drags him away at this instant and force him to play rescue-a-treasure mission? Or have they auctioned themselves excessively enough to insane missions that they'll be over-working themselves again? They have, at least to Ban's estimation, even to the point of nearly whoring themselves to cheap ones. Just to earn a fucking yen.

Or…?

Ah. Information overload. He can't bear to think of it one more fucking second, you can tell it no-frill judging by his composure, or the obvious lack thereof. At that precise moment, he blanks out his mind altogether.

'Ban-chan, why don't we drive around the beach and check out swimsuits?' Swimsuits being a euphemism for girls in g-strings and barely-there tops.

'Put me down for the count. I'll just walk…somewhere.' Ban shakes his head. He uses that voice that sounds as though it were coming from a deep slumber. Lost in musing, more like. Unlike any other time prior to this, he doesn't feel too smart to be instructed. Usually, he just slurs over a request not in favor of his and does what he wills, being so locked in his ego and all. It's just so odd witnessing him like this. Yet, what's odder, what's far, far odder is the fact that he is in no appetite to watch girls in bikinis. For a moment, in his subconscious, Ginji sees in Ban a wolf that has suddenly lost interest in a slab of lamb chops and turns away without looking back. He's Mido Ban for fuck's sake; his eyes aren't so penetrating because of nothing. They're for fun, partly however, and Ban likes to have fun, right? Hell knows what makes him decline such offer of indulgence and more to the point, with grave one-liners.

'Are you running a fever or something?'

'I'm fine, Ginji.' Ban stretches up from his seat, suddenly sporting his usual stance; hands buried in his pockets and back slightly reclining. All dead set to go. 'You enjoy yourself.'

Swift as a blink, he has detached himself from the café. There at the far end of the street, his figure becomes smaller and smaller as his footsteps progress. None of them inside can name the moment in which he took to swoop off from his seat all the way to the door and out of sight. For all they know he's turned to smoke and his space is now cleanly vacated. Again, he's exhibited reflexology quite impeccably. He is so fast and subtle in his movements that no one bothers to express surprise, anymore.

'I wonder if he's alright. I think I'll go after him,' Ginji says, obviously without thinking twice. He has taken a huge leap towards the door when Paul speaks up.

'He's fine. He wants to be alone, Ginji. Let him.' Ginji halts dead as though a tangible something has just come to obstruct his way. But no; it's only Paul exercising command over him, bidding him avast. If it's Paul who says it, there's virtually no chance of pursuing the argument. Ginji doesn't know where this older guy's knack comes from; specifically he doesn't know whether he really has the talent to convince people his way or only has that which makes convincing seem his field. Whichever, Paul, to Ginji, is a good coaxer, who always gets the desired effect from the younger lad, take it or leave it. And he does it effortlessly. He is like the long-lost father to Ginji in the latter's post-Mugnejou days, always reading him through and through but never a harsh word from him. Trying to resist; Ginji might as well try to move a continent with a pair of forks. Hell, his words are gospel to him. In which case, "Forget it" is the most sensible thing to do.

Ginji emits a low groan then, slowly pads away from the exit and languidly assembles himself on the bar stool. Nothing of his best friend's behavior that morning tipped him off of something like this; in point of fact, it was at the furthermost of his head that he'd be spending the day-off sans Ban. Cheek propped up on palm, he mumbles, 'I still think something's gone on with Ban-chan.'

Darn right.

TBC

A/N: It's kinda uneventful, isn't it? I hate to agree with you there, truly. Well, this fic is already finished. I started it off as a one-shot but it sort of reached around 9,000 words so I decided to chop it in chapters. I'm going to update soon after I'm done revising the next parts; there are some sentences in them that still sound awkward to me. In any case, I'm NOT going to ransom the following uploads and demand reviews. I will update with or without reviews. Thank you for bearing with this.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter II

Disclaimer: I don't own GB boys and girls. But I will say it again and again; I will do anything to make Shido belong to me.

A/N: I know this warning is long overdue, but this fic is strictly for those who can tolerate yaoi. It's nothing like an in-your-face gay story with lemon here and there. It's simply a story that may or may not seem to tackle the complications of attraction per se. However, as the author of this fan fiction, I will consider this as romantic angst.

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Ban traipses his way on the sidewalks, like a sail on seas that has no direction on its own. He never anticipated that he'll drain the hours of his rest day in such a crappy and fruitless way. This has all been unprecedented, and the fact that there's no more unsatisfying way to spend a free day than this gives him a kind of buckled-down sensation, from which he strangely can't escape. He doles out low cusses at the thought. He has been walking for God knows how long under this hot-assed weather which is everything but salubrious. True, the atmosphere is suffused with a grip of heat wave which Ban, as he scans his surrounding, suspects is killer. He squeezes up his face into a scowl which is enough of a thermometer to say how hot it is. The entire city seems to have fallen out of attendance and remarkably few people—most are with umbrellas to parry the vicious sunbeams—are lingering about looking like they're going to have heatstroke in the next tick tock and a half. Only the very tough and the very thick go out for a walk on this kind of day, and Ban isn't about to back out on the challenge.

Beads of perspirations of varying sizes begin to streak down his face, falling ceaselessly like melting stalactites in contact with his chin. He sponges them off every now and then but they just keep on falling that at some point he lets them go on rolling on his skin. The distance he's covered has stretched out unknowingly that should he try to look back, he will have to wrack his brain inside out to remember where and when he started walking.

He lets his feet take dominion over him as though a separate cerebrum were operating them, one that's completely different from what is used by the rest of his systems. He mechanically ambles past highways, people, shops and traffic lights. He has seen more of them this day than any other day he's spent in the past. Still, he doesn't know where he's going and he isn't even sure if he likes to be away from Ginji and the others. All he knows is something magnetized him away from the café. And the identity of that something, as of this moment, is still as clear as mud.

He reaches a spot where the Infinite Fortress blooms in full view; he halts to navigate it with his eyes, columns and all, and finds nothing that wasn't there yesterday. He can see its constantly darkening silhouette, the tenebrous shadow it casts on Tokyo ground and the menace it incites in any normal person who takes a second to scrutinize it. He frowns at the filthy sight of it and at the thought of people/creatures establishing their homestead in there. It seems to him a snapshot of nightmare, a place in hell, in which only roaches and rats deserve to live. Had he given a whit more to imagine it, he would've smelled its stench from where he stands.

'Why the glum face?'

If Ban weren't so used to momentous surprises, this encounter would've made him jump out of his skin. He wheels around and,

'It's you.' Ban says, his face, grave in repose, confronting the person.

He's smack right in front of a beaming Kazuki Fuchoin who sidles up close to him almost immediately, keeping him at harassing distance.

'Easy. I didn't mean to shock you.' Kazuki smiles. It's just his ordinary, tirelessly sincere smile, Ban learns upon surveying his face. That one which Ban receives on a rather diurnal basis. It shouldn't really be a big deal…

But this time, something in this encounter mystifies that smile and it produces a tiny tingle at the bottom of Ban's spine as it creeps its way through his nape. He may have done well to hide it beneath notice but it doesn't quite end there. He has to fight the urge to use his Snake Bite on that smile, to snatch it away from Kazuki's pretty face and crumple it and dump it someplace where the effing sun doesn't shine.

'Shock me? Far from it.' Ban snaps. 'Had I been slower in my uptake you wouldn't have that head on your shoulders by now.' He meant to make good use of his voice's sarcastic undertones so that Kazuki will flinch and run off away from him like a scalded kitten. Damn, he wants to be left alone. He underestimates the Master of the Strings, however. Just because he has that exquisite exterior doesn't mean he can be stepped on anytime. He isn't one of the Four Kings for nothing.

'Yeah, I suppose that would be the case.' Kazuki says, still not ridding himself of that contagious smile. 'Anyway, do you want to say something?'

'Excuse me, what was that?' Ban can't believe his ears. First the intrusion, now this. What's next? Being told to get the hell out?

'You heard me.' Kazuki says. 'I presume you want to talk to me that's why you followed me here.' He isn't mocking Ban, which, for some reason makes it increasingly puzzling.

Ban stills himself for an instant. Like he cares about what Kazuki has to say instead of simply wanting him to scram. This whole line-reversal only does so much to rankle him inside. He starts to be aware of the implosion taking part within him and in simultaneity, he tries to paste together the occurrences that led to this meeting. What he will give for a damned clue. He fixes his sunglasses with the tip of his forefinger and positions himself vis-à-vis Kazuki. One can now easily number the inches separating them from each other. Seeing Kazuki's well-meaning smile, unfortunately, penetrates Ban in such a way that he is forced to keep his gaze at shoulder-level. He wonders how reversed the situation is now, how ironic it is that Ban—with his world-famous Evil Eye—should be the one avoiding straight-faced eye contact. There is a protracted silence when the unthinkable is uttered.

'Wa--was I following you?' Ban blurts out. The words just come out on their own, he swears. Suddenly, his brows transform into a furrow and he's looking as though he just crushed a mirror he didn't want to break. He has come to the point where doubt is done feeding on his certitude. The fragmented speech, the manner in which his shoulders collapse and that facial contortion that seems so akin to capitulation; they all give away the rest. For once in his life, he has acted extremely out of character.

'Hahahaha!' Kazuki guffaws loudly as though there'd be no tomorrow. Whatever measure of respect Ban had for Kazuki, it evaporates here and now. Why is he acting extremely out of character? He has his right arm clutching his stomach and his knees are slightly bent. If there was a wall anywhere near them, he would've leaned on it for support. He goes on laughing, unrestrained, for good 15 seconds, seeming to have thoroughly thrown caution and elegance to the wind. Witnessing this, Ban wonders deeply why he thought Kazuki wasn't only a master of strings, but of social graces.

Ban's difficulty to resist the urge to pry Kazuki's head open shows itself conspicuously by the minute. 'Are you done?' he flares up amidst the other's hearty laughter. Anyone can say that one doesn't look murderously at another if he wishes him well. Ban half-wonders why despite this glare, Kazuki still goes on tittering. He hates his guts alright.

'Pardon, that wasn't very nice.' Kazuki says, gets a hold of himself and reverts to his signature sugar smile.

For the record, Ban isn't about to beg him to be nice or even to beg him to stop making a stupid laughingstock out of him.

'Just what makes you think I was after you?' Ban glowers. He isn't liking this picture; he and Kazuki, alone, under one square-meter of heaven on a rabidly sweltering day. What the hell are the gods doing manufacturing this kind of horseshit? And that smile…what Ban won't give to be away from it. Perhaps it's because right now he is alone at the receiving end of the smile; usually there's Ginji and Natsumi and Paul and Hevn and you can rest assured there's enough of it to go for everybody. But now there's only Mido Ban and he hates to think that he can't handle it. Come to think of it, he hasn't been crammed in the same picture with Kazuki, and without Ginji, he hastens to add. He never really thought of Kazuki as someone directly connected to him; he knows him in theory (of course, as Ginji's old friend) but the truth is, the closest Kazuki gets to him is his being another person on the other side of this parallel universe, particularly on that grayish side which hardly exists to Ban anymore. A mere vapor trail.

'For one, you took all the routes I just took. In the same order, mind you. For another, here you are where I've decided to be in the meantime.' Kazuki replies. He doesn't appear to be bothered with being at close quarters with Ban at all.

Ban is about to say he didn't sign up for 'Get Insulted by Kazuki Fuchoin' Club and can't forgive him for his grossly girly looks. He is about to put a sequel on it with a delicious knuckle sandwich right between Kazuki's eyes. But just as he's gaining momentum, preparing his lungs for a long tirade and clenching his fist, all impulse is aborted by the sight of the other's shift of expression. In contrast to his erstwhile expression, Kazuki now plasters an empty look on his face. Ban discovers why Kazuki puts that face on all of a sudden; it speaks so blatantly just by being empty. It's--make no mistake about it--scorn.

'If you're thinking about yesterday, you can eat shit and die.' Ban blares, continuously digging his nails on his palms. He gathers that he hates Kazuki's guts like nothing else; his bogus 'cluelessness', his malleable temper and on top of it all, his smile. Why the hell does he think that that goddamned smile will take him anywhere near Ban's affection? 'Just because Ginji and I thought you were a woman doesn't mean we now have the hots for you. Come on, dude.' Ban goes on. It just surges over him, that vehemence, so sudden and so uncontrolled.

'On the contrary, I wouldn't have remembered it if you didn't bring it up.' Kazuki says, retaining his banal expression. 'But if that's all, I guess there's no point being so sassed.'

'If you so much as suspect me beyond this time, I will kill you.' Ban gives it another start, not heeding what Kazuki just said. He can just hang Kazuki here and now for all he knows or cares.

He doesn't know why it has to infuriate him so. He stands, slightly trembling, as he rests his eyes on the unfazed Kazuki. His anger faces no test by this time; it's quite sincere, so Ban-ish and so frightening. On the other end, Kazuki breathes shallowly, an indication of perfect composure as opposed to Ban's labored respiration. To Ban's line of vision, something about Kazuki is changed. Whether it's just a part of Kazuki that is changed or his holistic appearance or simply just Ban's eyesight messing up or a fleeting mirage or something else entirely, Ban isn't sure. Kazuki now stands on a spot where the Infinite Fortress looms ever so imminently in the backdrop. Ban can't help remarking, soaked in fury as he is, that Kazuki is the least likely person to blend in with Mugenjou's squalor. There is a vast difference between them (Kazuki and Mugenjou) that keeps Ban in constant danger of asking Kazuki why he chose that suckhole to live in when he could just live anywhere else. It was to him, before he met Ginji, a shadowy place where terrorism is the watchword and violence the only key to freedom. He can only imagine how Kazuki survived all those years in its dark alleys, its ugly run-down buildings and its poison. But Kazuki existed unmarred by it, right? His rat-holed past, which is sure to grow dimmer in his memory now that he's out of it, it shouldn't really be a matter of concern to Ban but…He nonetheless keeps Kazuki in his gaze longer than he intends and catches himself making lacking-in-detail observations at the latter's off-shoulder top which he discovers disturbs him to epic proportions, even at first quick glance. Ban isn't designed to understand such predilection for clothing and his look pretty much divulges the greater part, if not the rest, of his confusion. He can have asked Kazuki to do him the kindness of draping some cloth over his shoulders but is seized by the horrible thought of Kazuki laughing his ass out again. As a consequence, Ban decidedly clams himself up for the time being.

It reminds him of yesterday's hot spring escapade, how Kazuki slithered down to the water and bared all. That piece of memory which has stayed with Ban all along and which he keeps turning away but keeps coming back for reasons that are unfathomable. And now, Kazuki's nakedness, however in lessened gravity in the mere form of his bare shoulders, makes Ban realize his own sense of security. Unable to entirely compose himself in a long pause, Ban settles what he thinks he is ought to do; if Kazuki is thinking of a long stay, it may do Ban a lick of good to keep himself at bay with this person and just walk away.

'I'm going.' Ban harrumphs before he gets to give Kazuki his warning once and for all. 'Remember, if you so much as suspect me beyond this time, I will kill you.'

All he needs now is Kazuki's words, his nod or anything that signifies compliance, to mark the end of this meeting. He looks at the Master of the Strings, at his wide-spaced eyes, in the way he does when poised to use the Evil Eye. If the other doesn't budge, there's always the alternative. He needs to weasel out a truce from him, badly, and he won't leave until Kazuki says what he wants him to.

'Why don't you ask yourself first whether or not it's you who suspect yourself?' Kazuki finally says, seeming unperturbed by the other's menacing glare.

'Huh?' Ban freezes. He didn't ready himself for this; to lose his vocabulary in such an offhanded way. The hue that just moments earlier was there on his face leaves it; he's paling all over, to match his white blouse.

Kazuki taps himself on the forehead either as a gesture of pity or simply a way to check how drenched in sweat he is now. He begins to waggle his head sideways as Ban recognizes the smile that all of a sudden romps on either side of Kazuki's lips. It's pity, alright.

'Mido Ban, don't be so hard on yourself.'

'What the hell do you mean by that?' Ban seethes. He's taken on the sort of pitch that he uses when he gets fed up with a conversation or a fight or just when he generally gets fed up.

'I mean to say that you should be saying what you want to say. That's all.'

'Alright then. You asked for it,' Ban says rather rudely. 'I want to say that I have no spare time and that I wish you'd leave me alone, unless you want to see what'd happen if you don't. In which case, you're free to be my punching bag.'

'Oh, no problem. I'll see you tomorrow, Mido Ban.' Kazuki smiles. He trots off away from Ban, slowly enlarging the space between them until Ban can no longer hear his light footsteps. Still, Ban keeps his eyes locked on Kazuki's direction, his continuously tapering figure, as though something bad would happen if he doesn't. It's not until Ban is sure that he's relieved of Kazuki's presence when he swings his gaze the other way. He sets down his guard and shakes his head in distress, confusion, physical meltdown and other similar types of fuckups. For the first time in many years, Mido Ban doesn't know where to put his thoughts next.

At Kazuki's absence, which, when it happens seems like an afterthought, the heat resurges and clouds itself around Ban like a thick puff. The quiet returns, yes, along with the unbearable quality of the atmosphere. He begins to sweat profusely, his tongue feeling more parched each second. He knows he can't hold much of this genuinely insane weather so he decides to peel his way back to home, their car.

TBC


	3. Chapter 3

Mea Culpa

Disclaimer: I don't own Get Backers.

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Final Chapter

Drowsiness shows no sign of claiming Ban that evening. It's nearly 4 in the fucking morning and he's lapsed into a mental caterwauling that involves mashing his eyes shut and flipping them on again and repeating the process. A faint shade of orange is beginning to show itself to announce the arrival of morning. He's tactically placed himself on the driver seat, as he always does, and has his head in a less than 180 degrees angle facing the windshield. He didn't plan on keeping his vigil until this late. The walk he just had that afternoon very nearly got him paralyzed and dehydrated. He had almost crawled his way inside Honky Tonk, stammering with what his ossified lips allowed the word 'water'. It looked as though he had forgotten about what he just wordlessly made clear that morning, that he wanted to be alone. His mind was too fuzzed over to think and his body too pared down. It made Ban think, his mental soundness quite in shambles, that the exhaustion promised nothing below a 9 hour respite. Apparently, he was wrong. Here he is, wide awake at 3 or something AM, awake for the better part of this day. His weariness lingers about him, hinting to stay longer within his body until something happens. What that something is, Ban isn't sure.

He can hear Ginji's snores beside him as Ginji slumps like a log on the shotgun seat. He can see the rise and fall of the other lad's chest that somewhat makes him think of the torrential waves of a high-tided beach. He can only guess how Ginji sleeps in that position, which is sure to give anyone cramps, and he can only wonder why every morning Ginji will remark how beautifully he slept the preceding night. Every so often, nocturnal birds will come twittering somewhere near, trespassing the silence and causing Ginji to frown in his sleep. But no amount of noise, huggermugger or hell can entirely jerk him awake, which only adds to Ban's wonderment for this person. Looking at Ginji, Ban learns that he envies him on this point; being partly narcoleptic. A pallid moonlight volleys through the window's glass and it produces a glimmer of reflection on the surface of Ban's eyes. But the stars…they seem to have died en masse that night, leaving him with nothing to count but hallucinatory sheep and the hours that scroll away.

He has been lying still on that seat, one minute after another edging past him. He begins to suspect that if he stays in that position for another minute more, it will just drill a hole on the seat cover. Knowing that he won't get the sleep he wants in the near foreseeable future, Ban heaves the car's door open and pulls himself out. He slops himself on a bench nearby and decides to indulge on his smoking maintenance. Chain-smoking is the only thing that can save him now, he thinks. He lights up a cigarette, its tiny ruby end glowing in semi-pitch darkness and its smoke pervading the air in unseen spumes. The moving air softly slams on his face and he goddamn wants to ask it where it's been all afternoon. He wagers he wouldn't be half the wreck that he was earlier if the stupid air bothered to show up. But no, it took its vacation someplace else and let him go to ashes and now he feels like shit and can't get a shut-eye. He has gone through all lengths to retrieve an object and almost too often he ends up just a few knocks away from death's door; now, sitting stiffly and awake, he wonders why he can't for the life of him retrieve his former sleeping habits or why, oh why, he can't help himself. He's been up too long, too unhealthily. Even his hair may have been growing longer for all the time his wakefulness consumes.

He muses when this near-fatal insomnia is going to end, cursing to himself and thinking back to when he might've contracted said sleeping disorder.

But his thoughts only spin their way back to his encounter with Kazuki. And when this awareness hits, it comes to him with the translucent moonbeams which he, until then, cherishes in his solitude. His head has been filled, nourished with Kazuki-related thoughts all along. Even when all other senses depart from him, Kazuki's words have stuck to him like dry paint. He wants to tear Kazuki from his mind altogether, wants him erased and invisible, or anything short of death that will put poor Ban out of his misery.

_Why don't you ask yourself first whether or not it's you who suspect yourself? _Those words just send his brain scampering from one Kazuki-aspect to another, filling up all available spaces inside his skull.Did Kazuki just question his straight-arrow sexuality? But…Was he really following him? And if he was, for what purpose, pray tell? In this state, those questions sound just as fucked up as the chicken-and-egg problem to Ban. A very vicious circle.

That same moment, he feels his temperature plummet swiftly upwards into all time high. He feels his blood boil out of anger, confusion and weirdly, of chagrin. He holds his hand in an upraised fist in the very motion of knocking his head with it. But before he can get around to touching his forehead, he realizes that a headache isn't something he wants to happen to him now. He wants sleep, nice and long.

'Ah, confound it. To hell with that cross-dresser,' is all he can think of to say.

IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII

Ban has splattered half of his torso on the table, tries to get his body up again in what otherwise looks like a success. Just checking out how he feels augurs pretty badly this day; if worse comes to worst, he may even decline taking a trip with Ginji again. More than anything, his body seems singularly fragile today, side-winding tired, like he just lost a ton of blood and sweat in a pugilistic match or some other. The truth is, he didn't get 40 winks or less last night, a by-product of letting half his mind roam elsewhere rather than concentrating himself on falling asleep. It left him pathetically sleepless at the very least and morning found him already almost dead. A purplish recess visibly hangs under each eye on his face; they can have replaced his purple sunglasses without so much as a reaction from the crowd; should the occasion arise, the latter will think that it's just Mido Ban sporting his go-to-hell purple shades. It's quite a spectacle to see him like this, suffering to the end of his wits without a single shadow of a solution as to how to end it. It's as if his ghost just went out of him.

'Ban-chan, I slept beautifully last night. Did you, Ban-chan?'

'Baka janai? Can't you see I didn't sleep one blink!' Ban says in a woozed-out voice that cues anyone in to how bad he is currently feeling.

'I don't know. I was asleep the whole time.'

'Thanks for mentioning it. Your snores were too loud they kept me awake more successfully than any goddamn brand of coffee has.' Which isn't exactly true as he usually sleeps soundly even if Ginji's snores buzz on till afternoon the next day. If anything, Ban should be feeling indebted to Ginji now because without those eardrum-sucking snores, the deafening silence of the night will stand in to torture him for the greater part of the evening. It also answers the question why he prefers to sleep in a place where birds are sure to croon late in the day; that way, the quiet which he dreads to hear in solitude is overrun by a more alive sound.

'Ban-chan, I'm so sorry. I didn't think—'

'Never mind. Let's eat; looks like I can murder a whole pizza.'

Ban and Ginji are in the process of licking the last remnants of the meal when Ginji stops dead. One of his hand grips the edge of the table in such a way that he seems firm not to let go of it. His face squinches up harder and harder until it assumes an almost indistinguishable form. The healthy rosy color of his cheeks has left his face and seems to have been replaced by a bluish one. A mouthful of air is trapped behind his lips which makes it look like he's in a breath-holding contest.

'Ginji, are you alright?'

'Ban-chan, my stomach is…' Ginji says through gritted teeth. He has his other arm around his belly as if to support his weight with it. 'I need to go to the toilet.'

'What did you eat again, Ginji?'

'Nothing. Just this pizza. It must be spoilt…'

'And before that?'

'I've had a pitcher of milk but that's all—'

'Ginji, I told you you're lactose intolerant. How can you forget?'

'I didn't forget. I thought it only lasts a day.'

'Lasts a day?' Ban feels himself weaken. 'Since when did you decide when your lactose intolerance ends? Now take a look at what that shitty stomach does to your face.' By the term 'shitty stomach' he means it literally and figuratively.

I…Excuse me, Ban-chan.' Ginji scuttles off to the end of the room, squawking about bad stomach and slamming the door of the CR with a force that might've shaken the roofs off the building had the screws were short of one turn. Ban hears himself sigh at his friend's suffering.

'Oh brother.'

At the same instant, the wind chime's sound shoots through the air. Unlike any other time before, Ban bothers himself to look at the newly-entered customer. Prosaically enough, there, upon the doorway, is Kazuki Fuchoin in his immaculately white outfit, drawing all attention to him without so much as a light 'hi'. Natsumi's warm and wholeheartedly-meant greeting is heard together with its entailment that goes along the lines of, 'you're early, Kazuki-san.' Something seems to have slid on Ban then, like a cold stone, something nearly palpably solid moving inside him. He surveys Kazuki's appearance; he's still the full-blown transvestite Ban knew from the not-so-long-ago. More importantly, however, there's his smile.

'Good morning, everyone.' Kazuki says. He offers the smile to anyone present, even to Ban who gives his damnedest not to respond as much as a raised eyebrow to it.

_Why is he looking at me as though he hasn't heard of me before?_ Ban catches himself asking the question and bouncing his eyes at Kazuki a number of times.

Kazuki moves forward to Ban's table. He has done this in the past, which Ban never for once found uncomfortable. All this time Ban contains his glance at him, keeping it loyally on Kazuki Fuchoin as if he wants to prevent him from making an escape, which he's doubtful to do by the way. He culls the seat across Ban.

'Good morning, Ban.' Kazuki says in his standard manner of greeting; tilting his head a little to the left and raising his right hand in an obscure salute. 'Where's Ginji?'

'CR. Bad stomach.' Ban says with so much as a glare he can execute in his weary state.

'Oh,' It takes Kazuki about 5 seconds to snuck a concerned glance at the CR and to return it to Ban. 'Were you able to spend your afternoon well yesterday?'

'Obviously with that kind of weather nothing would've seemed to end well.'

'Yeah, I suppose so. You yourself don't seem so well, are you sick?' If Kazuki was taking pleasure in Ban's sickness, he doesn't let on. As usual, he's composed.

Ban wants to say 'sick' is quite putting it lightly. He feels like crap and he isn't just putting on a clean-up act just to turn Kazuki away. He feels like a corpse that's been exhumed from its dilapidating coffin and is forced to take habitation in the living world. He feels what one feels when he's farthest from feeling okay or getting well.

'I didn't sleep last night. I was awake the whole time. I'm not sure why.' He has taken on the habit of making his sentences end in periods, as though what he says were final and incontestable and shouldn't be reacted with as much as a single 'oh'.

'I'm sorry to hear that.'

'Don't be.' Ban says. He doesn't know why he's still preserving this stupid, almost monosyllabic conversation. He can think of many other things to do, things that can't be called pointless like this chit-chat with Kazuki Fuchoin. He surmises that if he slips off outside and uses his Evil Eye on the first 3 persons he bumps into, he would be doing more justice to this day. He stares back at Kazuki; even he isn't sure if his gaze is transparent or blank or meaningful. He just stares at him, at his honest-to-god off-shoulder top which hundred replicas Ban thinks Kazuki keeps inside a giant closet devotedly hanging on individual hangers. He's not sure why right at this very moment he's keeping a tab on each and every movement Kazuki makes and making inferences out of them, which are to say minimal as no one ever manages big movements while gluing his ass on a fast-food type chair.

It takes all these thoughts to make Ban realize that he's entered a staring game with Kazuki, who for his part has been all along returning Ban's look. Ban is a stranger to that glance, to the warmth it exudes particularly and the gentle expression that goes as a side package to it. He questions the glance of its authenticity while all the while warning himself of Kazuki's slyness (which is a stranger to him as well); he knows that this look with which Kazuki equips himself is no testament to his true character. A portion of Kazuki's face is under the shaft of sunlight that flounces through the windowpane beside their table. As a consequence, his eyes give off more shine than they normally do. He doesn't make a stir; he seems rather full on maintaining the invisible cord that binds both their looks to each other.

_What the hell is this? _Ban's already-harassed mind seems to scream. He narrows his eyes as if doing so would release what his insides are dying to haul out. He's prone to assume that kind of expression in tenser times, matters of life and death for instance. Looking at Kazuki this way, it's like they have secrets moving between them. Like that one thing that excludes them from the rest of their environment. Mutuality, is that what they call it? Ban begins to think but the pondering session starts and to his dismay, ends there. The cord breaks and the game ends.

It's Kazuki who withdraws his gaze first, meaning, it's he who loses it. At least to Ban, that's how it looks like. Kazuki flexes his knees up and turns his side to Ban. An unspoken threat seems to issue out of him, which for some reason makes Ban flinch. And that rarely happens.

'It looks like I've outstayed my welcome. I'm leaving, Ban-san.' He tells Ban and to everyone, 'Goodbye. Tell Ginji I stopped by.'

He saunters to the exit, without hurrying and without delay. He extracts the usual gloomy reaction form the others who have begun to mutter 'so soon?' and gives them a parting smile. Ban is still mired in his seat and in his personal silence when he hears Kazuki's footsteps fall on the wooden flooring of the café, the sound of which continues to diminish to inaudibility. He hears the creak of the door after that, and the wind chime that declares Kazuki's departure from the place. At which instant, he places a palm on his forehead. All weariness leaves him in exchange for a psychological weight that now makes itself so ineluctably known to Mido Ban. His head feels like it's going to explode any minute soon if he doesn't do something or to be more specific, if he lingers longer inside Honky Tonk.

He stands up, places his hands inside his pockets and spins his way to the exit without a word. He does this out of no small act of will, but of something urgent sizzling inside him. He retraces the paths he took yesterday because he knows that where they lead to is where he'll find Kazuki. Sleep deprivation and grogginess are the least of his worries now, all his reason recognizes is that urgent something which he must attend to at any rate. The weather and the crazy-assed temperature that it formerly had have abated to a bearable degree and more people have been pulled out from their hibernation. The city now teems with the dense population of whole Tokyo which somewhat makes Ban long for yesterday's fewer presences. He doubles up his speed, gearing himself up for the long track ahead of him and not caring if his respiration snaps or stops dead for that matter. The need to catch up magnifies exponentially in Ban and he goes on sprinting as though making it on time means the world's safety or more. When he reaches the destined spot, in this un-peopled haven where the sun emits no more than moderate heat and where the wind seems to bless the atmosphere with a warped kind of peace, he learns why Kazuki would love to be in such a place.

'You're looking for someone, Ban?'

Sure enough, Kazuki is behind him. He doesn't know why, but less than an hour ago he had more cause to hate Kazuki than to like him. Now, he isn't exactly sure what to call it. Perhaps, there's what they call discovery; when part of the thick line that lay between them waves away and reveals everything behind it.

'I'm here to…explain.' Ban says. It takes his last steady breath to let that out and when it does go out, it's straightforward, no strings attached and just honest. 'I was following you yesterday. I don't know why. It just occurred to me last night that I really was. I thought about what you said to me and I thought that maybe they weren't as crazy as I thought they sounded. Right then it just clicked and…you were right. I'm sorry.'

'It's okay. Just take a breath--'

'I thought about why I'd do something like that. I didn't want to admit it first but it just wouldn't stop drilling on my brains. It started way back on the hot spring incident. I…' Ban falters. He has humiliated himself to the last drop, he thinks. If he stops at mid-sentence now and leave Kazuki to make up for the rest, it will only go to show that hop-scotching his way from the café to here is to no purpose. Which is stupid of course and inconsistent with Ban's principles since what he does always has its purpose. 'I don't know how you'll react to this but I…'

'You didn't think it was a woman. You knew it was me and still you went and barged in. I wouldn't have doubted Ginji, knowing him. But you; I was aware that you knew more.' Kazuki finishes it for him.

At this moment Ban lets his hands fall on his side. It may be a vague signal of capitulation or an even vaguer sign of denial for all Kazuki knows.

'It's true.' Ban says. 'Everything you say is true.' He sounds annoyed at saying it but the force of surrender in his voice seems to override any other symptom of pride. In his desperation, he hoists up the white flag, no less.

Is Mido Ban really pleading guilty to the crime?

'Forgiven. Hahahaha! It's perfectly alright; stop making it sound as though it's the moral equivalent of massacre or something.' Kazuki smiles and he's using that ordinary banal smile anyone can receive from him. 'Don't worry, I won't say anything about it. Let's just act as though it never happened, okay?'

Something quickens inside Ban. He knows better than to let his temper run away with his good sense; that's what he learned after years of fighting. But this time something just toed off the line, he's mighty sure of it. He feels anger rise from the pit of his stomach and up to his chest. It hacks inside him like it's going to rip his skin apart so it may get its hands on Kazuki. He can't just ignore that kind of remark the way he would a face in an over-exposed photograph that's so indecipherable nobody bothers to find out who it is. How can Kazuki be so insensitive? Pretend that it didn't happen? What is this to him, an ant's bite? Didn't Ban just tear his heart open to Kazuki? Didn't he just embarrass himself to such measure that's far below him? This is infra dig! He didn't expect this much callousness from Kazuki especially right after having his feelings exposed in the most romantic way he can imagine. No, he didn't expect that Kazuki's gentle and deathlessly understanding façade only extends up to friendship concerns.

'I'm not asking for your forgiveness. I want your acceptance.' Ban says before he can stop himself. He's quite good in the looking-cool department, he knows it damn well himself; but today, loath as he is to admit it, he fares no better than Shido when faced with Madoka or Ginji with Natsumi. He imagines the cold sneer Kazuki will admit it with and trembles not only at the thought, but for himself.

'Acceptance?' Kazuki says with the large interrogation point puttering out of his lips. It betrays nothing but his ignorance to the predicament that will take control over him and his fate any minute now.

_You are so alone now. You need someone. You need me but don't know it yet. You will, soon after you look at me and learn that you're only helping your suffering by not minding it. _The words flit through Ban's head, intertwining themselves with the veins in his brain, moving alive, and about to engulf him in their enormity. He wants to howl them out, however stupid he may wind up seeming, to make Kazuki understand. For no noble cause, perhaps. Those are the first thing his mind comes to touch upon Kazuki's one-word query. Acceptance. He needs that to get inside his world and the need falls in him full force, causing him to wince and his stomach to flop inside him. He's sure it's not hunger that does that this time. He thinks of Kazuki's childhood love, Jubei, who is arrantly pulled out of view to seek recovery in far-off places. No doubt Kazuki loves him no end. And no doubt Kazuki is on the verge of losing his soundness too, missing him like hell. But no doubt, he can be swayed. Can't he?

'Acceptance. Be with me. It's too much to ask, I know. I'll give you the time you need.' Ban calms himself all of a sudden. He realizes that making it sound as though what he feels transcends physical attraction is no trouble to him. He has said what he wants to say and having done so slows down his heart's palpitation and lends him a feeling of peace. Being aware of this, Ban fishes out a cigarette from his pocket and starts puffing. To him, it's always been something he has to hang on to no matter what, smoking.

'You know about me and Jubei. I can't just cut him off like that.'

A Kazuki sans Jubei just about reminds Ban of something very easy to hurt, like a newly hatched chick or some other. He pictures himself with Kazuki, how it would be like to have him around every time. He, Ginji and Kazuki, together. He pictures his hope evolving from a mere far-flung fantasy to reality itself. And the picture it produces in his head seems so complete, so beautiful.

'I said I'll give you time. No matter how long you need. Jubei isn't here. You don't know when he's going to be back. You can wait for him and I can wait for you. I can even take his place; just say yes. Kazuki, I…I think I may be falling in love with you.' Saying this, despite feeling like something got stuck in his windpipe, Ban sees himself turn into a gentle person he's not familiar with.

'Have you ever thought that I may not be the one for you?' Kazuki asks.

'No. I only started thinking about _us_ the other night. It all came so fast. But no, it never yet occurred to me because I know it's you.' Ban says. He doesn't mean to sound so demanding. He really doesn't. It just comes out of him as though those words were the only ones his vocabulary is made of.

Kazuki shakes his head. 'This is unasked for. Ban, I don't know what to say. I'm so sorry.' He says, his voice ringing like something that has fallen from a great height.

As Ban looks at him, he realizes that Kazuki is nothing like the newly-hatched chick he has imagined. At this moment, the resemblance ends. Kazuki can very well survive with neither of them, Ban nor Jubei. He has demonstrated that already well known fact in the past; he can do it again.

The odds, here they are saying hello to Ban at last. Destiny and time have come to conspire against him now. Everything that's about to happen lines up to happen before his very eyes. The understanding that he thought was building up between them chars away and disappears and all there is now is this one-sided affection that is so blatant it doesn't need further emphasis. He can just walk away from Kazuki now, with the road that could've led them to one another becoming longer and longer, he can just double up and cry in his car, and the other won't give him a word of comfort. Ban's sure that kind of thing isn't illogically possible, knowing merciless Kazuki; he'll just keep his fence around him, turning deaf ears and blind eyes. The rejection, it has all been clear from the beginning; his heading is hissing the word out in capital letters. He's afraid, something he can't stand to be. Fear, is it real in Ban's world? Why, here it is, encumbering him, crushing him beneath its weight. All the fight is scooped out of him. What was he thinking opening his heart up to Kazuki? Kazuki, of all fucking people; he can't recognize love even if it stared him on the face. That's his one moral failure; failing to sharpen his senses to scent affection and suchlike. It's stupid, not to mention reckless.

'Is that a 'no'?' Ban says, collecting all courage to say it. His heart begins to skitter behind his rib cage, he can feel it almost effortlessly. Right now, the word 'no' scores 9.8 out of 10 on his horror scale. If he hears Kazuki say it, surely, it'd be the one strong wave that turns over anything it sweeps on. Even Ban who's supposed to have defeated the Thunder Emperor. He can't take it, he won't.

'And what if it is?' Kazuki says, his face waxing unfazed.

'Whether it's a 'no' or a 'yes' doesn't matter. I'm not giving up on anything.' Ban hastens to say. He is clinging to the last shred of what he thinks is right, being true to himself and to the person he cares for.

'Huh, you're a hard nut, Mido Ban.' Kazuki smiles.

'Nuttier than a fruitcake, you mean. It's you why I'm being like this, in case you've forgotten.'

'Hahahaha! It's funny the way you say it.' Kazuki says. Hearing Kazuki laugh seems to have lifted up a heavy scrim of fog from Ban's chest. At times, he can't take this laugh; now, he's probably even welcoming it. It has slackened the tension, no doubt, which can mean anything, anything at all.

'I didn't want to sound funny. I was just...I just hate the way this is going.'

'Yeah, me too. Would you like to grab a coffee some place?' Kazuki asks.

'If it would settle anything between us, I'll take it.'

'We'll take it from there. There's no hurry.' Kazuki says and moves ahead.

'What do you mean? Are you…?' Ban stills himself, wide eyed.

'I'm thinking about what you just said.' Kazuki takes a breath. 'You said you're not giving up on anything, didn't you? I liked it.'

Liked it? This is taking a comic turn, Ban thinks. He didn't say it for Kazuki to like, but to acknowledge and nothing more.

'You were right, you know. Jubei's away. I can't do anything about it.' Kazuki continues, working up his face into something that just thawed and softened.

The moment's suddenly blanched in silence, the kind that seems to stretch to eternity and doesn't register no matter how rankling it gets. It seems like Kazuki is waiting for Ban to say something or to make anxious movements, anything that'll buoy up what he feels towards Kazuki's acceptance. Ban keeps his cool on the surface, a habit which he knows he didn't tote from someone like Kuroudo and his maniacal, icy behavior. Being restrained, it's his innate expertise too, isn't it? He acknowledges the compressed exultation of his heart, smiling calmly and sincerely.

'Oh. That's really nice, I mean for you to finally consider.' Ban says after what seems like forever. It comes like that, without crazy, puerile enthusiasm; it is understated, felt and true most importantly. It's like he's just been injected with a quick sedative that comes in the form of Kazuki's words, kind words. 'You won't regret it, I promise.'

'Just that you shouldn't do anything rash or I might change my mind.'

'I don't know, I'm a man.' Ban smiles. And the smile turns into laugh and into happiness. He moves forward Kazuki and stretches out his hand for the other to take. Kazuki takes it and he too smiles and laughs. Ban isn't sure if this makes Kazuki happy. But with what he feels, he is sure he wants to make Kazuki happy, whatever it may cost him at the present and in the future. And to make Kazuki love him. Yes, he has pictured that many times before, times when he wanted Kazuki to think of him too, to picture the forms he makes with his cigarette's smoke; that pathetic twilight zone that had no hope of coming true so long as Ban buried his feelings so deeply he couldn't know them anymore. He doesn't need that now, for the wall has come down. This is a lot better than sitting inside Honky Tonk, growing pedantically anxious of his hunger, darn broke and mourning for it with Ginji. Ban thinks. Yes, it only takes Kazuki to get over those.

They paddle away from the place, fully aware that something is changed inside and between them.

END

A/N: Well, it does look like a one-shot fic to me. Same basic deal; it's just gotten too long, I have to cut it down to chapters. Anyway, one line is obviously from Shakespeare (As you Like it) so don't sue me, okay? If you think this fic is a complete debacle, it's fine. I swear.


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